In Spades
by TigerTiger02
Summary: oneshot preMalRiver, appx 1,920... 'Malcolm Reynolds often wonders how he ended up here. From a brighteyed eager enlistee, who had faith and belief in somethinganything in spades to a wearyhearted smuggler, who despised God and had no faith.'


Title: In Spades

Author: TigerTiger02

Disclaimer: Not mine… although I do wish I owned the completely and utterly Fuckable Fillion and Bangable Baldwin… tehehe. But not gonna happen, considering I'm a poor creative writer with a shit job… which translates into a completely nonexistent job…

Spoilers/Timeline: Takes place roughly a half a year after the BDM, meaning if you having seen it… well there are mentions of character death in here… also series mentions… so yeah.

Summary: typical Mal and River have a conversation in the bridge and move it to the Mess. Nothing special about it… I just want to test out my ability to write characters and use the vernacular. Pre-Mal/River if you squint and tilt your head, or just look at it and go 'heh, yeah it is…' so if you're offended by it… then why the hell are you reading it? One-shot 1,920 words... or about anyway

Dedication: who knows? To my sister? To Tarryn? To God… oh sorry Joss Whedon… Meh… take your pick… hell it's inspired by _Bright Eyes Haligh Haligh a Lie Haligh, Gold Mine Gutted, Lover I Don't Have to Love, and The First Day of My Life_, as well as _Regina Spektor's Chemo Limo and Us._ If you haven't heard any of these songs... download... now.

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Malcolm Reynolds often wonders how he ended up here. From a bright-eyed eager enlistee, who had faith and belief in something/anything in spades to a weary-hearted smuggler, who despised God and had no faith. He knows that Serenity Valley did it to him, hardened his heart and cracked his soul. But somehow both his heart and his soul are on the mend… and even more miraculous his faith. 

"Miranda." The faint voice almost made him jump and he turned to see River perched on the co-pilot's chair. Her knees were drawn up to her chin and her large, luminous eyes were fixed on the Black outside. "She healed us. Made me better, _not whole but… more finished_… Got the secret out and gave a second chance. Gave a mission and a purpose. A reason for faith and belief." He ignores what she said but holds it for truth, it still hurts a little think about Faith and Belief, makes him think on Book who didn't deserve to die. Book 'specially didn't deserve to die the way he did but at least he took the _hun dan_ that did it to him down. He shoves the depressin' thoughts away and instead addresses a different issue.

"Hey Lil' Albatross, bit late for you to be awake." He admits to himself, silently and secretly of course, that he didn't even hear her coming up. It's a mite creepifyin' to think he was alone and then she pops up out of nowhere.

"Didn't come from nowhere, had to come from somewhere, you were too lost to realize it."

"You didn't answer my question." He points out to her. She gets an annoyed look.

"You think too loud. Everyone does. 'Cept for Zoe and Inara."

"That so?"

"Yes. Simon gives Zoe smoothers to sleep. Before he did her dreams kept me awake, blood and screams of dying men, you almost dying, dying, and **dying**. Itty bits and small sudden holes in the forehead, and apples raining down upon you. And Wash…_** oh-god-Wash-baby-I-miss-you-please-come-home-come-back-to-me-where-did-you-go-why-did-you-have-to-go?"**_

**Serenity Valley**, she gets Zoe's dreams from Serenity Valley. And her grief of Wash's… passing. The thought is like a sudden cold downpour upon him. He hates what the Alliance did to her, cuttin' into a little girl's brain and leavin' her with no option but to dream others dreams. It's a breech of privacy both for herself and for Zoe, or any of the other crew includin' himself. He has to clear his throat before he's sure it's steady enough and won't betray his emotion on the subject.

"And 'Nara?"

"She never dreams, not anymore. They taught her how not to at the Training House. She once let herself but… since Miranda dreaming hasn't been as pleasant." He makes a noncommittal noise, secretly wondering what Inara's pleasant dreams had been about. "Not for you to know, and certainly not for me to know." River says with a sharp glare in his direction.

"So Simon, Kaylee, and Jayne's dreams keep you awake?" he prods.

"Not Simon and Kaylee's. They are just loud. I wish they would take it to Kaylee's bunk but her bed isn't as big as Simon's."

"Well we'll have to do somethin' 'bout that, won't we." He winks at her and she gives him an eye roll.

"Jayne's are… interesting. But his don't keep me awake. _Yours_ do."

"Ain't sleepin'." He tells her. Another annoyed look.

"I know that. But when you do…" she shivers and moves on. "And you think loudly. I can block the others out sometimes. But you are too _forceful _with your thinking." He stares at her. "Well you are. It's because you're stubborn. Forceful."

"I-." He means to say he's not but she cuts him off.

"You are."

"I'm sorry."

"You aren't."

"Am I?" She cocks her head and studies him.

"I suppose you are. Did you ever want to be something more then a smuggler?"

"I was. Called a Sergeant." He hates talking about the War, but that's what he was.

"Didn't mean _that_."

"Know what you meant."

"Then will you answer me?"

"Wanted to be a pilot." He admits. "Not so sure 'bout that one anymore." It's almost uncomfortable sitting in the same chair Wash sat in when… he died. It spreads a chill through his body.

"Simon wanted to be a pianist. But mother and father said it wasn't a proper job. Pushed him into surgery. He's forgotten what it's like to sit there and play. He has such pretty hands; long, slender fingers that ran across ivory keys so quick and beautiful. Used to love to watch him play." Mal can almost picture the uptight Simon, eye closed, swaying gently, and a small smile on the pale face.

"And **you**?"

"Dancer."

"Thought so." He can picture River dancing, wearin' one of her long skirts and twirlin', slender legs no longer instruments of death but of beauty. He remembers that night at Maidenhead, that was not fighting, it was dancing. He couldn't imagine River doing anything mundane, she was a person of great amounts of grace and passion. He pulled away from his thoughts and focused on her.

"He used to play for me when we were younger, and I would dance. Then… my parents…" she started to sound unsteady.

"Shush. I know what happened next, no need to repeat it." River shook her head and looked at the dinosaurs that still lined the pilot consul. They were gathering dust from lack of use. Zoe refused to touch them, let alone come into the bridge.

"I miss him."

"I reckon we all do." Mal responded quietly. They fell into a comfortable silence.

Looking out into the Black Mal couldn't think of a better way to spend a sleepless night. Other then… and he really didn't want River to pick up on that particular thought so he quickly discarded it.

"Heard that." He cringed. "I never said I minded it. At least it isn't about death and blood and destruction… and it's less disgusting then Jayne's." She leans forward, awaiting his answer, and for a moment Mal almost asks who he dreams about. He never remembers, maybe it's because he doesn't want to or maybe it's because he's just too gorramn old. Although most would say 31 isn't **that **old.

"I need some coffee," he finally declares.

He pushes out of Wash's—no, his seat and turns without a word to River. She's following him anyway, he can hear the gentle swish of her dress, some forest green silk **thing** that clings to all the right places and flows around her like pure poetry. He supposes that she got it from Inara, who loves to give River the pretty dresses and Kaylee the pretty baubles. The same Inara who finally came to Mal and told him flat out that she felt, well _**something **_for him but she wasn't willin' to quit being who she was and he certainly wasn't willin' to share her so they had best move on. And they had, but he's not wantin' to think of Inara right now, because the silk is shinin' faintly in the dull lights of the Mess, and it's almost as if it's beggin' him to reach out and touch her. Mal pushes those thoughts away as he heats water.

"Doesn't matter if you push them away, they're still _there_." River murmurs from where she's eating an apple.

The Operative had sent them a crate, thought it one big joke. Somethin' about River being Eve, not that he had understood most of it, jus' what the Doc said is all. Of course he didn't mean to leave a trail for Bebe to find. Bebe their lovely new computer whiz/hacker, though she hates being called either. Mal doesn't mind the Operative sendin' them packages though, considerin' it's been near six months since Miranda and mysterious packages still show up at Fanty and Mingo's, one of the few places that hadn't been hit. Mostly food, real food, sometimes parts Kaylee'd been bitchin' about. Mal knew it was the Operative payin' penance so he doesn't say a word to anyone else, still Zoe raises an eyebrow at him every time he signs for a package.

"Jus' don't wanna be payin' for penance the rest of my life, Albatross."

"Wouldn't be paying for penance, I'm nineteen in three months. _Not a girl._"

"Special Hell." He reminds her. She wrinkles her nose and takes another bite from the apple. He contemplates watering down his coffee with sugar and cream but he can't stand the taste of it, plus it ain't like he plans on sleepin' anytime soon. "Coffee, darlin'?" River gives him a look that clearly said, _Are-you-kiddin'-me-that-is-the-nastiest-**go'se**-in-the-'Verse_, and slowly shook her head.

"Tea."

He frowns for a moment, wonderin' if he should just sit down and drink his coffee, but he hates it when she's mad at him. He rummages in the lockers for a moment before finding tea and chooses some Earl Gray Black tea. He can't stand drinkin' his tea and having to pause to pull out a leaf from 'tween his teeth, not that he drinks a whole lot of tea mind you; it's just that he figured River'd be the same way; so he uses the teabags instead. He picks a lone, delicate teacup, drops the bag into it, and pours the remaining water over it. The smell of lavender wafts up into the air with the steam as he turns to ask her if she would like sugar in her tea. She's right there, inches away from him when he does.

"Black." She said and took the cup from him. She walks, no—flutters, to the table and sits down, with her feet curled under her. Mal sits down awkwardly and sips his coffee slowly. The silence lulls him back into his thoughts and he wistfully thinks on days past. He remembers when it was just him and Zoe on Serenity. And then he hired Bester and Wash. Of course he fired Bester after finding a more competent mechanic, Kaylee. But when it was just him and Zoe, Serenity had just been a dream that he could barely grasp. Now it was reality, he felt the peace settle in his chest. He loved this life of nomadic wandering, wouldn't trade it for nothin' in the 'Verse.

Well, maybe not nothin', he thought as he glanced at River. Long, pale legs curls 'neath her, and long, tangled hair gettin' in her face as she stared at him. She smiled and he knew she had caught wind of his thoughts 'neath all of the memories.

"Heard that." She murmured, taking a sip from her tea and confirming his suspicions.

"Hoped you did." He took her proffered hand and leaned back in his chair, gently threading his fingers with hers. It's odd, been a long time since he held hands like this, and her hand feels small and soft in his. But he knows it has the power in it to break necks.

"There's a storm coming," River murmured, her liquid hazel eyes locking onto his cobalt.

"We'll get through it." Mal responded, and gave her hand a squeeze.

Malcolm Reynolds often wonders how he ended up here. From a weary-hearted smuggler, who despised God and had no faith to a semi-happy man, who was regaining his faith and learning how to love. He knows that Miranda did it to him or more likely River Tam; she softened his heart and patched his soul. Somehow both his heart and his soul are on the mend… and even more miraculous his faith.

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A/N: I've been having some difficulty getting the next chapters of Stricken because I've been wanting to do a Firefly fic but wasn't sure how it would turn out so this is an experiment to see if I can even write a Firefly fic so I would appreciate some feedback even if they are flames. Was that just one sentence? Well anyway… just trying out a new technique with the "full-circle ending". I hope I got Mal and River pegged down… ish… ness… yeah. But anyway... I thought about continuing this but decided it would be took much of a pain in my ass... since you know... I kind of suck at continuing things so... yeah... who here things that I should just write one-shots and drabbles? I find them easier to write then full stories with chapters... well more then like ten chapters... I don't think that I've gotten past... yeah shutting up now. So see that purple 'Go' button down there? Do me a favor... click it! 


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